


zeami

by vena_cava



Series: fat fucking cookies [3]
Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: Grand Marshal Jujube, M/M, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vena_cava/pseuds/vena_cava
Summary: meeting a grand marshal with loose lips and looser morals is a blessing for opportunists
Relationships: General Jujube Cookie/Leek Cookie (Cookie Run)
Series: fat fucking cookies [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884736
Kudos: 6





	zeami

**Author's Note:**

> im depraved, im wack
> 
> add me on cookie run NXJXZ5197

Given that Leek Cookie was on his own self discovery, he didn't think he'd need to run from authority other than his clan elders. Sadly, it was his sought after infamy that led the swordsman away from Japan and across East China sea to China. If he was out of the country, surely they wouldn't follow him and would lose interest. Sucks that trouble seemed to follow him no matter where he was, because currently he was in the custody of a certain military official, in front of a certain Grand Marshal. He was young. not much younger than Leek himself, but still, and decked in gold and red. His burgundy hair was pulled back with a giant gold ornament in topknot, the rest flowing down his back elegantly. He peered at Leek with a sort of haughtiness that was bound to be found in young royals, but all the same, his noble aura still gave sight to a pure heart. Leek snickered to himself. The one thing you could always count on was that little lordlings didn't like to be laughed at. The prince flushed harshly, his face twisting in disgruntlement. He said something to the guards, and they dragged Leek away, although he never let up on the smirk on his face.

It was dark, the room he was taken to, and the walls were made of black stone. There were no cracks, at least none that Leek could see, and the floor wasn't damp, but it was still cold. He would've let a few wisecracks go if anybody here spoke Japanese. Not that Japanese officials would've let him live long enough to say a single word. He was left there, in the dark, honestly too tired to move much. He settled down against the cold stone, not minding how it chilled him to his core as he drifted off to sleep.

He was woken up not even an hour later by that same prince, his strong brows pinched in the center. He came alone (a stupid idea), and with him he carried a small bowl. It was a simple congee and Leek assumed that was for him. Congee he wasn't that big a fan of, but this didn't seem like his place to complain. He took it when it was handed to him gratefully, and prepared himself to take a sip. As soon as it hit his lips though, he knew he couldn't finish it. The congee was salty and very congealed. It almost made Leek gag with how viscous it was, and he immediately handed it back. The prince took the bowl back, a confused look on his face as he started to hand the bowl back after waiting a while. Leek shook his head vehemently. He never wanted to taste something like that again as long as he lived. The prince's face turned from simply confused to sour in a matter of seconds. As if to show Leek that it wasn't that bad, he chugged the whole bowl, showing the empty bowl to Leek when he had eaten everything. With that, he stood up from his crouch and left. 

Leek didn't see him again until much later, when he felt he'd slept a good several hours. All he had was sleeping in the cold before the prince would visit at odd intervals with another bowl of congee. Every time there was something wrong with it. Too watery, too spicy, too bland, and every time Leek couldn't stomach it. He didn't know he was this picky with food and he couldn't fathom why he had to have a rise in pickiness now. What rubbed him a bit wrong was that the prince would drink down the congee every time, and at first Leek was certain it was to mock him. But as time went on, it seemed that the prince actually looked forward to drinking that horribly made congee. His stern expression never let up, but it did soften when he was handed the congee back. And meanwhile Leek would get progressively more lightheaded as the days rolled on. He hadn't spoken in about a week, communicating with the prince with only headshakes and nods, and the guards didn't even bother communicating, throwing him water skins with little care if there was any left for Leek to drink or not. The prince, at least, had respect for him, in a way.

The visits were something that Leek came to look forward to, accepting the fact that there was little chance for him to buy his way out of this, since neither the Chinese nor Leek spoke each other's language. The prince had decided to bring more than just congee. Sometimes it was congee and fruit, sometimes congee and a small jar of wine. The congee was now reserved for the prince, who always chugged it down in record time, while whatever else was left to Leek. Leek didn't mind. He was glad that he was at least getting something. If the Grand Marshal wanted that garbage porridge, it was all his. 

While Leek was living it up in his cell, he always wondered what in the world was going on outside of it. He often heard instead scolding or yelling, with doors sometimes being slammed. Whenever the steps would pass above the prison, he was worried this would be his execution, but luckily (or unluckily?) nothing ever came. At least not in terms of an execution. He did find that on certain days, the prince looked like he wanted to ask Leek something, but couldn't find the right way to go about it. Today seemed to be one of those days, tentatively sitting besides Leek as he set down a basket of loquat gummies and started sipping on the congee. Leek bit into one of the deliciously ripe fruits, barely catching the slight pooch of the prince's midsection as he leaned forward, grabbing a single loquat to eat with his congee. They never communicated much, but the furrow of the prince's brows made it seem like he wanted to say something. Leek had picked up a few things here and there, so he at least knew how to say basic words like "food" and "water", but it wasn't nearly enough to be able to hold a conversation. The prince would merely have to charade it, and even then something could be misunderstood, but Leek wasn't picky. Any chatter was good chatter in his book at this rate. 

The prince moved his hands as if to tell Leek he wanted him to go with him somewhere. The prisoner raised an eyebrow and hoped that the Grand Marshal wasn't going to be the one to lead him to his execution. He nodded hopefully and the chestnut haired prince smiled weakly, raising a finger to his lips, not like Leek could tell any of the guards if he wanted to. The prince looked at Leek for a little bit longer before his cheeks colored and he looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with the prisoner for much longer. Leek was confused, but the prince hadn't led him wrong before. He nodded with more confidence, and the prince smiled a tad bit wider. It was really annoying, not being able to speak to him, but Leek didn't know what he could do. Well, he'd trust the prince. He hadn't run Leek wrong insofar and seemed like a good cookie. Now, all he had to do was wait and see what in the world this lordling was gonna do. 

**Author's Note:**

> tried to get this all done at once and my stupid goo goo ga ga baby fart brain can't handle more than 1k words
> 
> SORRY IF IT'S SHIT LMFAOOOO I'M SO DEAD IN THE HEAD


End file.
